


Across the Ages

by Jerevinan



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 04:31:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12380949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jerevinan/pseuds/Jerevinan
Summary: Ignis and Noctis have always known each other throughout their lives, but what happens when they use Umbra’s powers one last time, to meet each other in different timelines?





	Across the Ages

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a conversation with Iselia. Thank you. 
> 
> Bit of a warning: there's sex between 32 year old Ignis and Brotherhood Noctis, and 30 year old Noctis with Brotherhood Ignis. That's why I marked underaged - though Ignis is 18, I'm warning for Brotherhood Noctis, who is still a teenager. Feel free to turn back, I'd understand if that bothers you.
> 
> I listened to [Cave of Remembrance](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TXh9ieN9ttM) from KH2 while writing this fic, don't know if anyone might enjoy it while they read. ^^

[32 year old Ignis with 8 year old Noctis and 10 year old Ignis]

**These Scars**

Ignis can’t see the small boy in front of him, but he suspects from the way his shoes squeak on the marble floors of the Citadel that his prince hasn’t yet suffered the Marilith attack. A prince whose steps haven’t lost their bounce, whose back is not a landscape of healing wounds, who hasn’t spent the past few months in physical therapy.

The footsteps skid to a halt a few feet in front of him. In the background, another child’s shoes patter against the tiles.

“Who’re you?” Brave and adventurous—this Noctis has been playing all day. He’s a little breathless from running. “You look familiar.”

The other child stops a short distance from Noctis. “Noct…”

Ignis smiles. Some people say hearing recordings of their own voice sound strange, but this must be odder. He could reach out and ruffle the hair of the person he was twenty-two years ago. It’s like a scene from a dream. A good dream.

“Are you Ignis?” asks adult Ignis. “And this must be his Highness, Prince Noctis…” He bends down to one knee and bows his head.

He hears Noctis draw nearer, a confident and curious child. 

“What happened to your face?”

“Serving my king. I have no regrets.” 

A long pause. “Can I touch it?” 

Ignis nods, and a finger tickles against the skin of his right cheek, where the scars have healed but still itch sometimes. After a minute, Noctis grows bolder and lowers more fingers. He doesn’t press. 

“Was it in battle?” 

“Yes.”

“Did anyone kiss it better?”

Ignis chuckles. What a strange but adorable thing to say. “Well, no.” 

To his surprise, lips brush against Ignis’ cheek. Behind Noctis, younger Ignis cries out Noctis’ name in horrified shock. The most unusual part of this exchange is the magic of the gesture. Despite the wound being ten years old, the kiss is more than a kiss—it heals something that isn’t the physical injury. The thoughtful gesture reaches his heart.

It makes Ignis’ eyes mist, and thank goodness for his visors so the children can’t see him cry.

Ignis bows his head again. “Thank you, your Highness. I feel better already.” He waves to young Ignis. “Come here.”

He takes a wrist from each boy and draws them nearer. His presses their hands together between his—a way of unifying them all.

“Noctis is very special to you, isn’t he?”

“Y-yes.” He can just imagine how little Ignis must be nodding his head, but he can’t see it.

“Ignis is special to me, too! I’m gonna protect him!”

“Protect each other,” says Ignis, but he is happy to hear the sincerity behind their loyal affections. It reminds him of the innocent days when their greatest adversaries were plates of vegetables and tattletale Crownsguard members who caught them playing in restricted areas. Those were the days when he loved Noctis but wasn’t _in_ love with him. That time would come later. “I have faith you’ll be good warriors.”

He doesn’t _want_ these children to know battle. He wants to scoop them up in his arms and prevent the Marilith attack before it steals Noctis’ lively spirit. Before they ever find out what it’s like to lose their home. Before a younger Ignis loses his eyesight. 

Their fights should be in video games and storybooks. 

But the boys need never know that the training they’ve been through will become a necessity in the future. For now, they’re brave children who want to be heroes. 

Noctis cheers.

“I’ll do my best,” says young Ignis. “What’s your name?”

Ignis can’t say “Specs”—this Noctis already enjoys using that nickname, and they’ll both recognize it. 

“Visor.” Close enough. The boys giggle. Surely they know it’s not his real name. Let them believe he’s a valiant glaive, dressed as he is now and with a cool-sounding moniker. They must think the scars were sustained fighting for King Regis, not for a much older Noctis. Not for a prince who has so much more to lose than Ignis does.

Ignis stands. “Behave yourselves, and eat your vegetables, Noctis.” He knows the advice will fall on deaf ears, and Noctis won’t remember it anyway, but it doesn’t hurt to say it.

He hears Noctis pretend to retch. He laughs and waves goodbye to them before he leaves them to their mischief.

~*~

[30 year old Noct with 10 year old Ignis]

**Carbuncle Dreams**

Noctis stands in the Citadel hospital wing, which is reserved for the royal family and those closest to the crown. A little boy sits on a chair next to a bed, sleeping with his head beside the hand of the child in the bed.

Noctis draws nearer and notices how small his younger self looks—how broken. There is pain in child Noctis’ face, his mouth twisted in agony. Nightmares. Noctis remembers them vividly. They came to him repeatedly for years to come. Daemons slithered from the shadows in daylight, and only waking up could save him.

Waking up, and Carbuncle.

Noctis checks the bedside table. The Carbuncle figure rests there, standing solid and loyal next to a box of tissues. Good. This child at least has a friend in his dreams to help him.

The other boy is Ignis. His glasses have mostly fallen off his face. Noctis reaches down to rescue them before they get twisted up or broken, and Ignis stirs. 

“Who’re you?” asks Ignis as he lifts his head and adjusts his glasses. His eyes widen. “King Regi—no.”

Noctis can’t help but smile. He does look more like his father now, if only marginally. 

“Noct.”

“He’s still asleep.”

“No. You’re Noct. Your eyes are the same. You’re him.”

“Maybe this is a dream?” suggests Noctis, but he’s a little shaken that Ignis can recognize him despite that this timeline’s Noctis is lying in bed, recovering.

“It has to be. You can’t be in two places at once.”

Oh, the small minds that would be blown if this Ignis knew the truth. But Noctis does know about his time traveling escapades, and as an adult, he still finds it a little overwhelming.

“Why are you here? In my dreams?”

Noctis doesn’t know what to say at first. “Thank you for keeping watch. But shouldn’t you rest? That isn’t good for your back.”

“I know.” Ignis adjusts in his chair. 

“You could climb in next to me—him. I’m sure it would make him sleep easier.” He discovered in his teens that when Ignis, Prompto, or Gladiolus share the same bed with him, he sleeps better. But the Marilith attack marks the time when he stopped creeping into Ignis’ bed at night. When he started to be more reserved. If only the suggestion to Ignis could change the future, Noctis might have known better rest. Maybe the trauma from the attack wouldn’t have harassed him with such frequency as he remembers.

“I’m afraid I’ll hurt you…” Ignis stares at the boy in the bed and his eyes water. “Uncle says I can’t go to Tenebrae with you.”

All the better. Nothing good awaits anyone there. The Marilith attack is only the beginning of Noctis’ change. He had started to feel like his former self when he sat beside Luna and talked about the crystal and discussed cosmology—even when restricted to a wheelchair. But then Tenebrae will be invaded, and more painful memories will stain his mind.

“You can take care of all the cats in the garden since Noctis isn’t here,” says Noctis. “They need attention from someone.”

“I’ll do that. But I still want to go with you…”

“I’m sorry. I can’t make that happen.” And if Noctis could, he wouldn’t want to—Ignis will suffer enough in the future because of him. “But when Noctis comes back, he’ll get you into lots of trouble.”

Ignis glances at young Noctis in bed and then back at Noctis. “That’s okay. I’m used to it.” He clasps one of child Noctis’ hands in his own, and there are tears slipping down his cheeks. “I just want you to get better.”

“I will.” What does Noctis say to encourage Ignis without accidentally manipulating him? It’s true this magic of Umbra’s cannot change the past. Ignis of the future will never remember this conversation, but that doesn’t mean the spirit behind Noctis’ words won’t carry through. That Ignis won’t be affected in some small way.

“I just want you to smile again,” says Ignis, voice breaking.

Noctis reaches over and takes a handful of tissues from a nearby dispenser before he kneels beside Ignis. He carefully removes Ignis’ glasses before he pats at his eyes.

“I will,” he promises. “Give me a little time.”

“You look scared.”

“I am, but see that figure?” Noctis points out Carbuncle on the table. “My dad gave me that. He’s in my dreams, protecting me from danger.”

Ignis takes the tissues and blows his nose on one before he attempts to speak. “I’m glad.”

“And I have you, too. Here, get up in the bed.” Noctis moves his own arm—it’s a surreal feeling to touch his younger self—to allow Ignis space to climb into the hospital bed beside Noctis. He sets the arm across Ignis’ chest before grabbing a blanket out of one of the cabinets. He unfolds it, and as he’s spreading it over both children, he hears Ignis’ soft, steady breathing. The child has fallen asleep. 

~*~

[32 year old Ignis with BH Noctis]

**Guide**

“Ignis?”

This Noctis is young. Had Ignis met this Noctis shortly when Ignis was ten years younger, when his confidence in his body had taken a blow, he might have dipped his head and hid the scars for as long as possible. But now he stands before him, his sightless gaze settled upon the prince who must still be in his uniform from school.

“What happened to you?”

The question wearied him for years whenever someone asked, but it doesn’t bother Ignis anymore. If the Noctis of the present can love him, this one will, too. 

Ignis steps closer and takes Noctis’ wrist. He guides his hand to his face, and Noctis strokes his fingers around the scar, never quite touching it. Noctis trembles. 

“When?”

“Someday. You needn’t worry about it now.” 

“Is it because of me?”

Ignis doesn’t answer fast enough—doesn’t know _how_ to answer—and Noctis withdraws his hand.

“Why?” Noctis’ voice is laced with anger and pain. If Ignis had been younger, listening to Noctis’ tearful shouting would have stung like ice against his warm skin. But he endures as Noctis continues. “Why for me? I didn’t ask you to! I don’t want something to happen to you!”

“Noct.” Ignis takes a careful step forward. “Look at me.”

The silence stretches, and after a while, Noctis reaches up and takes off the tinted glasses Ignis wears. Ignis can only guess what lies beneath. His fingers can memorize the bumpy feel of the scars—the one on his lip, the one across the bridge of his nose, the ones that no one can see with his clothes on and the ones no one can miss unless they’re as blind as he is. And yet for all of it, he can’t visualize what he looks like. Noctis—the present one—says his eyes are milky. But…

“You’re still handsome,” says the teenager. A hesitant finger brushes against Ignis’ bottom lip.

Ignis leans in and kisses Noctis. A startled sound vibrates against his lips before Noctis returns it. He doesn’t have the experience, and Ignis finds his uncertainty attractive. The Ignis from this timeline would most certainly disapprove if he were to walk in on this scene, but he is nowhere around and not likely to show. During this period of their lives, Noctis’ emotions were difficult for Ignis to navigate. He didn’t understand Noctis’ feelings well enough back then, and he only visited to check in on him—which often led to tension that kept Ignis at a distance. 

Ignis knows now how much Noctis hurt back then. How much fear and trauma and teenage hormones had been a toxic cocktail brewing in Noctis’ brain.

“Let’s relax you,” says Ignis, and he guides Noctis toward the bedroom by one wrist. “Would you like to take your shirt off?”

“But…”

“I can’t see it.” Ignis points to his left eye. “Even if I could, I have my own scars.”

“Oh. Right.” A few seconds later, Ignis hears the gentle thwap of fabric landing in the laundry basket against the other dirty clothes. “What should I do now?”

Ignis treads with caution. “Nothing you don’t want to do, Noct,” he says, his words gentle and accepting of whatever answer Noctis might give him. “I can give you a massage—avoiding your scar, I know that area is sensitive—but if you want more…”

“I want _you_.”

Ignis wants Noctis, too, and for selfish reasons. He would rather relive the first time they made love, but that won’t happen until they’re nineteen and seventeen, and Ignis can never forget and re-experience losing himself with Noctis while their raw cries echo in the bedroom. And he is blind, so he won’t be able to see Noctis’ face when he orgasms. It’s a shame, but this… 

This is not only better than nothing, but a new memory for Ignis to take with him when he returns to his own timeline, beside the present Noctis.

“If you’re not sure, please tell me to stop,” says Ignis. “I know… I know you haven’t done anything with me before.”

Ignis hears the bed creak as Noctis lowers to it. “Will I remember any of this?”

“No. What has happened has already been fixed. This is merely…” _A magic trick of Umbra’s_ , he wants to say, but it sounds too cold. “Temporary.”

He won’t forget—a pleasing thought to get him through the coming battle and the world that will wait for him after, when there is no way to use Umbra’s time travel, when the gods have had their prophesies fulfilled and go back to slumbering before their next unnecessary drama. 

Ignis sheds his clothing with care, pausing as each article of clothing is removed so he can listen to Noctis’ hitched breath. He knows there are more scars beneath the shirt, but he doesn’t care—he’s confident in his physique. He poses in nothing but his boxer briefs, turning so Noctis can view him from every angle. 

The room is a bit of a mess, but Ignis navigates it by sliding his foot along the carpet and kicking aside discarded clothing. His toes tap against a half-filled soda bottle.

“Let me take care of that.” 

Ignis pauses and listens to the shuffling as Noctis clears containers and stacks clothing by the hamper.

Noctis takes his hand and guides him toward the bed. As they lower to the mattress together, Ignis reaches out. When no protest comes, he slips his fingers through Noctis’ hair and presses a kiss to his lips.

Noctis, eager and without any practice or self-discipline, slides closer. 

Ignis strokes a thumb across Noctis’ nipples, lowers his lips to suck on them. He may not be able to see the damage and estimate how badly the bruises will be in the morning, but he tones it down from what the present Noctis enjoys. They’re years away from building up to those extremes. Ignis peppers Noctis’ torso with kisses and slides his tongue downward. 

“Ignis…”

Ignis pauses, tongue still lingering against the skin just south of Noctis’ bellybutton.

“Keep going…” Noctis lowers a hesitant hand to Ignis’ head before he claws his fingernails gently against the scalp. Ignis removes Noctis’ pants and underwear. Noctis is hard, and he lets out a gasp and strengthens his hold on Ignis’ hair when a mouth closes around his cock.

The sounds are satisfactory enough that it mends the lack of sight for this occasion. Ignis’ hearing has sharpened over the years, and now he can detect every breath, every moan. Even when Noctis takes such efforts to be as quiet as possible. Even as Ignis knows how to work him until he’s a mess.

Noctis comes in his mouth not long after Ignis begins. He muffles his cries, but the little sounds that slip through do not go undetected. Ignis swallows before he pulls away, and then he licks the remainder from his lips.

“That felt good,” said Noctis. 

“Do you want to do more?” Ignis smooths his hand down Noctis’ thigh. 

“What do you mean?”

There are so many things the present Noctis would be willing to do, but that comes with experimentation and practice. Over the years, Ignis has learned what Noctis doesn’t like, so all he can do is avoid it. But to press for anything too rough wouldn’t be thoughtful. It’s too early for past Noctis to enjoy games and toys.

Ignis only aims to make this feel good for Noctis. 

“Should I make love to you?” asks Ignis, kissing the inner part of Noctis’ thigh. “Or you can make love to me?”

“What about condoms?”

Ignis reaches for his jeans. He slips a couple of condoms out of his back pocket and holds them up between two fingers. “If you want. I have a small bottle of lube as well. Better to be prepared, but please—if you don’t want to—”

“I do.” Noctis lowers his voice. “Where do I put my legs? If you were to…” 

“Let me guide you.” Ignis sheds his boxer briefs and begins to adjust Noctis into place. He slips a condom over his length before he leans in close enough to kiss Noctis. He can feel the warmth radiating from Noctis’ face, and in his eagerness, the prince grinds against him with his hips. 

Ignis wants this to be beautiful for Noctis, even though he’ll never remember it. It might be better this way when this timeline’s Ignis, with only marginal experience and plenty of reservations, can find bliss in his first night with Noctis.

He squeezes a liberal dose of lubricant over two fingers and massages it against Noctis, spreading him out in the process. Noctis holds in a strangled moan.

“Let it out,” advises Ignis. “No one can hear you but me.” He kisses the inner part of Noctis’ thighs again before he guides his way in.

Noctis only halfway listens to Ignis. He lifts his hips from the bed, inviting entry, but he only lets some noise escape through his lips. Even present Noctis is not particularly vocal, but he no longer holds back his sounds of pleasure. 

This Noctis doesn’t nip or leave bruises around Ignis’ collarbone, doesn’t tease and attempt to fluster Ignis—something that has become increasingly harder for the present Noctis to accomplish. Younger Noctis doesn’t take long to reach orgasm. After a few thrusts, he comes. This time, he lets out the moans, and Ignis finds himself easily brought to the height of pleasure by the rawness of the moment. 

He holds Noctis in his arms afterward, strumming his fingers down his arms. He kisses him on the shoulder. Noctis relaxes in his embrace. 

“We’ll be together in the future?” asks Noctis. “Is this…” He shifts, and he touches Ignis just below his scars. “Is this as bad as it gets? You won’t get hurt more?”

“This is the worst of it.” It’s only a small lie. This night of time travel is a prelude to the finale with present Noctis. And then there will be no prince, no king, no lover to warm his bed.

Umbra is merely pausing the present before the worst.

Ignis isn’t sure if—when he’s done traveling through time—this will only make it hurt worse, but the extra moments with Noctis are too precious to him to let pass.

~*~

[30 year old Noct with BH Ignis]

**Blush**

Present Ignis is hard to fluster, so seeing him as a late teen with his cheeks tinged pink and his eyes unable to meet Noctis’ is a delight. He’s young and hasn’t had time grow immune to all the things Noctis weaponizes to discompose him.

Noctis hasn’t even teased him yet—hasn’t unbuttoned his shirt or gotten to his knees or whispered anything in his ears. The mere sight of Noctis at thirty is enough to make Ignis bump into things in his apartment. Ignis frowns.

“What is it, Specs?”

“Where did you come from?”

“Umbra brought me. A little time traveling trick of his. It’s temporary, and it won’t affect the future. But I wanted to see you.”

This Ignis is familiar with the ease in which Umbra has crossed continents to bring Noctis the notebook he shares with Luna, but he isn’t aware of the dog’s time traveling abilities.

Ignis takes a moment to consider before he nods.

“You could tell it was me right away?” Noctis got a proper look of himself in the mirror at the diner in Hammerhead, when he used the restroom. There is a gray-washed tone to his black hair, an age on him that can only be due to the weight he carries. He feels like he’s fifty or sixty. “You said the same thing when you were ten.”

“I don’t remember that.”

“You won’t remember this, either, but it’s a memory I can take with me.”

Ignis steps closer to him, examining his face. “Then it should be a good one.”

“Oh, it already is,” says Noctis, flashing a grin that makes Ignis’ face redden even more.

Noctis closes the distance. Despite that Ignis is much younger, he’s still taller, but that doesn’t stop Noctis from swooping him into his arms and kissing him.

Ignis lets out a soft protest that is quickly abandoned as he melts against Noctis’ form. Ignis hasn’t had sex yet—that won’t be until next year, when he’s nineteen—so he is unpracticed.

“Can I?” asks Noctis, settling his fingers over the top button of Ignis’ shirt.

“Yes.”

Noctis undoes the first button and folds aside Ignis’ collar to reveal his collarbone. Noctis sucks at the skin there, feeling Ignis’ fingers dig against the front of his shirt. 

“That’s one of your favorite spots,” says Noctis, admiring the red blotch that appears.

“It…” Ignis is breathless. “It appears so.”

Noctis smiles. “You like my neck as well.” 

He took off his cape and jacket before Ignis came home, so Noctis is in nothing more than his dress shirt and slacks. He stretches out his neck invitingly.

“I…”

“You can. If you want to.”

“I do.”

Future Ignis made it no secret that he spent years wanting Noctis before he could have him. The way Ignis’ lips brush against Noctis’ neck show hesitance, but the desire is in his gaze. 

Noctis doesn’t want to push him too far. He peppers him with gentle kisses and leaves Ignis gasping out his name.

“Do you want me?” asks Noctis. “Would you like me to come inside you?”

“Please.”

Noctis fetches the lubricant and condoms from his jacket and guides Ignis into the bedroom. He strips Ignis first, undoing the rest of his buttons and easing him out of his pants. Ignis is hard, a blush still painted across his cheekbones. His muscles are well defined. There are so few scars on him now, but it doesn’t make him more or less beautiful. 

Ignis will always, _always_ be beautiful.

Ignis is receptive to all of Noctis’ touches and guidance. Noctis sheds his clothing with ease, smirking when Ignis can’t take his eyes from him. 

“You’re not worried about taking your shirt off?”

“The scar won’t make you love me less.”

“No,” agrees Ignis.

They kiss while Noctis applies lubricant and guides himself in. He feels a gasp against his tongue and presses harder in response. He follows gently after that, keeping his eyes open so he can watch Ignis’ face. They hold hands as they make love, fingers laced together in a silent vow of unity.

They reach orgasm together. Noctis licks Ignis’ come from his belly and smiles at him, and Ignis blushes all over again.

“Someday, this will be harder to do,” says Noctis.

“What will?”

“Leaving you a mess.”

Ignis lets out a groan and drops his head against the pillow. Noctis crawls up beside him and wraps one arm around him, nuzzling against his neck.

“You’ll make me work for it.”

“Good.”

“But not this time.”

Noctis sets a kiss against Ignis’ jawline and closes his eyes, satisfied with their brief time together.

~*~

[30 year old Noct with 22 year old Ignis]

**King Noctis**

Altissia, the night before the covenant with Leviathan. Noctis knows how much they’re going to lose. That makes it even more important that he meets with Ignis. So little time to show him what he has become while Ignis still has the eyesight to appreciate it. 

But drawing him away from the guys—away from this timeline’s Noctis—will be difficult. The group stuck together that night, not knowing of the pain that lie in wait for them the next morning. 

They’re laughing, and present Noctis can’t help but smile with them as he watches his younger self cast out a line and bring in useless fish after useless fish. The other guys are into it at first, but as time passes, Gladiolus and Prompto grow bored. They wander back to the hotel after half an hour. Ignis stays—as always—by Noctis’ side. It doesn’t matter how dull it gets, or how long they’ve been there.

“I’m thirsty,” says younger Noctis.

“I’ll get us something to drink,” says Ignis.

Noctis remembers why he wanted to fish that evening. His nerves were a mess after the agreement with Claustra, and his favorite hobby was one of the only ways he could cope with the anxiety.

There isn’t much time for present Noctis to corner Ignis, but he tails him down an alleyway before catches up in step beside him.

Ignis turns his head. “Done fishing, Noc—” His eyes widen. “Noct?”

Noctis nods. He wonders if his younger selves recognize the present Ignis as they are visited, the way Ignis flawlessly recognizes him each and every time. “Can we talk privately?”

“Certainly.”

“Maybe a gondola ride?”

Ignis nods, and they weave their way through the labyrinthine walkways of Altissia until they find a gondolier waiting by one of the ports. Noctis steps on with Ignis, and they sit across from each other.

Noctis offers up the same explanation he gave Ignis when he visited him in Insomnia at eighteen, and like he did then, Ignis accepts it. 

“But why have you visited me now?”

Noctis can only tell him half the truth. “I’ve visited you twice before now. First time, you were ten, the next eighteen. Now, I wanted to show you the king I’ve become.”

Ignis smiles. “You’ve become a handsome king.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

Should Noctis tell him to be careful tomorrow, when he won’t even remember the warning? No, Ignis would suspect something, and it would ruin this moment they have together. 

“A kiss for your handsome king?” Noctis smiles and leans forward.

“I might, but I should go back soon. I wouldn’t want you to get thirsty.”

“Thirsty? I’m not—Oh. Right, I got thirsty while fishing. When the gondola stops, we’ll head back.” Noctis doesn’t want his time with Ignis to be short, but he doesn’t want to monopolize on Ignis when past Noctis needs him, too—even though this won’t technically take any time away from them.

Noctis steals a kiss from Ignis when he helps him off the gondola. He holds his hands and grins at Ignis’ blush. 

“Take care of me, Ignis.”

“Haven’t I always?”

Noctis throws his arms around Ignis and holds him. He won’t cry. No. Not this time. 

Someday, in the future, they’ll cry together around a campfire, and Noctis will not be alone in shedding tears.

~*~

[32 year old Ignis with 20 year old Noct]

**Always**

Cartanica station is as dreary and heavy as Ignis remembers it. He can’t see anything, but it’s dusty, the smell of metal thick in the air. It brings back memories of a time when their party was at odds with each other.

Somewhere in a dining cart, Ignis sits with Gladiolus. Barely speaking, barely eating. Their little group has suffered a fracture, and the depth of their pain will only increase with each day Noctis doesn’t return from the crystal.

And now it’s a chasm, knowing Noctis will die. Who will fill it? No one. Not for Ignis. These visits to separate timelines are merely a delay before the inevitable.

Ignis wanders the train station, avoiding the dining car. He isn’t sure how to find Noctis. Ten years ago, he had no idea where Noctis had gone, only that he hadn’t been with him and Gladiolus.

“Ignis?”

It isn’t Noctis’ voice. 

Ignis stills. “Prompto?”

“You look…different. Why are you in a Kingsglaive uniform? Are those the ones we were fitted for before we left—the ones we were supposed to wear at the wedding?”

“Yes.”

“Where’s your cane?”

Ignis turns, knowing full well that once Prompto sees his face, he’ll notice the healed scars. And surely he must look older now. The hairstyle, clothing, and lack of a cane are the least telling.

“Ignis…”

“Prompto,” says Ignis in a gentle but confident tone. “I’m using Umbra to travel through time. I’m still Ignis. I’m here to see Noct. Do you know where he is?”

“Hiding in one of the cabins. I can take you.”

“Please.” Ignis has no familiarity with the area to know where he’s stepping. He might have learned to deal with things without a cane—even if it took him the greater part of five years to feel confident enough to leave Lestallum without it—but he wishes he had one now. One misstep near the railing, and he could take a deadly fall to the ground below. There’s a warm glow of light around him, and all he can make out through his right eye are dark, misshapen blurs of large objects. 

Prompto starts off at a trot that is easy to hear and follow, but his boots pause on the wooden walkway, and his tone is imploring when he speaks. “If you’re here—” 

Ignis interrupts him. “Please don’t ask me questions. You won’t remember this. I can’t change time. I can’t go back and save Insomnia.”

“Oh.”

“And don’t tell the others you saw me. Not even me.”

“Iggy…”

“Please.”

There’s a long pause. “I promise.”

The footsteps start up again, and Ignis follows them. Prompto is a good guide, indicating where there are steps and how many. He tries to reach out for Ignis to help him.

“I can manage. I’m far less weak than the me you know now.” Ignis smiles.

“If you’re sure.”

“He’s in the third cabin down. Do you want me to go with you?”

“No. I’d like to be alone. Go enjoy the sunset.”

“Can you see any of it?” asks Prompto, sounding hopeful.

“No. I’m only able to see a little light through my right eye. I might as well be completely blind for all the good it does me.” He cannot gauge the distance of all those blurry objects or even tell what they are. They’re nothing more than wide paintbrush strokes of gray across his vision. “Thank you, Prompto.”

He is shocked when arms wrap around him suddenly, and Prompto sniffles against his chest.

“Goodness, I’m all right.” Aching but alive. Sightless but surviving. 

“See you in the future, Iggy.”

Ignis chuckles and hugs Prompto back. “See you in ten years.”

He waits until Prompto’s footsteps fade and he hears his boots clatter against the metal steps as he exits the car. Somewhere in the car next door, younger Ignis sits with Gladiolus.

Ignis reaches out and feels the doorknobs of each room, counting them until he’s at the third. He taps on the door with his knuckles.

No answer comes.

“Noct?”

He hears shuffling on the other side of the door, and then the metal slides open. “What is it?” Noctis’ voice is hoarse, as if he has been crying.

“Look up,” suggests Ignis.

It takes a minute, but then Noctis says, “Ignis?”

“May I come in?”

“Yeah…” 

Ignis steps in, barely brushing against Noctis’ chest when he does so. He lowers into one of the bunks and sits with his hands clasped in his lap.

“What’s going on? Why don’t you have your cane? Your injuries don’t look fresh. You look…”

“Older. By ten years. Umbra’s time travel.” 

“Oh, right.” Yes, Noctis would know after hearing about it from Gentiana in Altissia. “I didn’t know it worked like this.”

“I suppose Umbra has many talents we’re unaware of.”

“Why, though? I won’t remember anything, and you can’t change the past—can you?”

“No. As far as I’m aware, only I will be able to remember this moment. I’ll take it back to the present timeline. But I want you to see that I will learn to live with this—that I may be blind forever, but it is not the end. Most importantly, you still love me.”

Ignis hears Noctis suck in a shaky breath.

“You will always have me, Noctis. I am yours forever.”

The careful attempt to keep from crying shatters, and the weeping summons Ignis to Noctis’ side. He holds him in his arms, kissing away the tears. 

“Will all four of us be close again?”

“More than ever,” vows Ignis. Ten years without Noctis might have had a toll, but not one that harmed their bond. “We’re an unstoppable force.”

He feels Noctis’ weight droop against him after a few moments. The words gave Noctis enough relief to settle down to sleep. Ignis lays them down together on the cramped bunk and waits for Umbra’s magic to summon him back to the present.

 

[Present Noctis and Ignis in Past Insomnia]

**One Last Skip into the Past**

They lie together in a tangle of sheets, the scent of sex and spent come lingering in the room. Noctis holds Ignis’ hand and breathes steadily. This is their last night together, before Umbra whisks them off to the present to face the darkness and the daemons. To confront Ardyn.

Umbra brought them to Insomnia before it fell, not long after Noctis departed in the Regalia to head for Altissia. They’re in Noctis’ old apartment. The sun sets on the other side of the curtain, an orange glow haloing the closed draperies. A little more time, a few more hours, and then they must part ways.

“What was it like, traveling back in time?” asks Noctis, squeezing Ignis’ hand.

“It reminded me how much I love you. It will make going back to the present that much harder.”

“We’ll find each other again.” Noctis has never been more certain of it. He might leave this world, but there is a place after it—the Beyond. He’ll rest there until they can meet again. 

“Our souls are connected,” agrees Ignis. “There are so many things I realized I never got to say to you. And so many memories…”

“We’ve known each other most of our lives.”

“I wouldn’t have wanted to spend my life with anyone else. I know we’ll soon reappear back in camp, in the present, and I know what’s coming, but the pain I’ll feel when you’re gone is not as bad as the thought of never having known you at all.”

Noctis rolls a little closer to Ignis and wraps his arm around his waist. He tries to swallow down the lump in his throat. He doesn’t want to leave Ignis, but he has spent ten years preparing to sacrifice his life. He will never be ready. But he will do it for the light.

“Every moment we have together counts,” says Noctis.

“It has been a pleasure to serve you, my king.” Ignis turns and leaves a kiss on Noctis’ lips.

“Perhaps I’ll serve you now?”

Ignis grins. “One last time?”

“I’ll make love to you right before the city falls.”

“And then we’ll go back and make it stand again.”

“We will. Together.”

**Author's Note:**

> It's been rough for me lately, but writing is always there for me, and this was a good way to channel my pain the past few days. Thank you for reading.


End file.
